


1151

by RageHappyThunder



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-01
Updated: 2013-12-01
Packaged: 2018-01-02 23:41:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,905
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1063068
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RageHappyThunder/pseuds/RageHappyThunder
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Forty years, he’s been waiting for the love of his life for forty years; the first sixteen of those years were spent in the bliss mentality of saving himself until he met his partner, then he turned seventeen and decided that experimentation wouldn’t hurt, by the time he was thirty and all of his friends were settling down, Joel threw caution to the wind and started dating random people who would leave him after a while because ‘they didn’t want to get hurt’; When his fortieth birthday veered it’s ugly head around the corner, Joel developed the mentality that the universe made a mistake  and he was destined to be alone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

In different languages there is no mention of love but destiny, where the holder of numbers where destined to meet a certain someone at a certain time when both of them have matured into a mold that fits like a puzzle waiting to be completed. Some speak of evolution, where two people with matching numbers have a certain gene that humanity needs to survive and this was mother natures way of ensuring that humans, and certain types of other species, survive. Some cultures speak of loving gods who looked at humanity and felt saddened by it’s lack of love so it branded certain people with numbers and said that true love wrapped itself in happiness and that these numbers would lead them to it.  Cultures also spoke of trickster gods who erased people’s numbers to make their journey to happiness more challenging, but somehow more rewarding.

There’s a cul-de-sac filled with misfit children who sneak out of their houses at night, they curl up near each other and use a flashlight to distort their faces into a monster. They conspire that the numbers on people’s bodies is the code of the universe; that everyone and everything around them is just a line of code; that everything is just complicated, an illusion, that nothing matters and the end of the world comes when someone types an end code into the core of the universe. These kids conspire that  someone took the mathematical code of the world and split it into halves, and when two people find their true love, they complete the chain of code needed for the world to keep spinning,  that this alone keeps the code growing and prevents the end of the world. But one day two people will meet and when they let their numbers touch, that will be the end code to pull the plug on the universe. It’s a gamble, everything in life is a gamble.

These are old sayings about the numbers that plague humanity, old sayings in different languages, cultures, cul-de-sacs in run down neighborhoods, old sayings that mean absolutely nothing. They’re untrustworthy, too different, not scientifically correct.

These numbers appear on the small of certain people’s backs when they are born, other than the numbers there is nothing special about the people who hold them. Countless studies have been performed to see if it was something in their genetics, their mind, anything; but nothing’s come up.

The numbers remain on the small of people’s backs until they day they are destined to meet the person they are going to love forever, then the numbers migrate to the person’s left hand if they have one. If the person has no hand, or arm, or anything, then the number will be found in the leftmost part of the person’s body.

The number can never disappear.

People have tattooed over the number, hands have been lost in combat, tragedies, horrible accidents and in the next few weeks the number will reappear, maybe not on the left side of the body, but the number seems to stain itself in a person’s soul and peek out through their skin regardless how hard someone tries to mask it.

It never goes away if you have one, and the more you think about it, the more bizarre it seems to be.

~~~  
Joel does the same thing every morning. He wakes up, brushes his teeth, pees and washes his hands. This takes Joel 5 minutes in a sleep induced haze.

Except for today.

Joel’s been washing his hands for 15 minutes. He’s watching the cold water pool in his hand and overflow, over and over and over again. It was hypnotizing, Joel seemed to be in a trance.

He thought he’d never see the day his number would migrate. Granted he’s about forty now and usually people his age, if they do have the number etched into their skin, have been happily married for years, with kids, in love and loving life. And then there was Joel, standing there in front of his mirror looking into himself, looking at his soul through the portal of his eyes.

Joel then proceeded to empty his stomach of any and all of its contents. His heart felt like it was about to swell and burst. Like the universe breathed a million stars into Joel’s nerves and they started vibrating in place. Joel felt like love was bursting all around him, he felt ecstatic in between every heaving; and if someone could see him now, hunched over the toilet like an alcoholic who drank more than he bargained for, he’d argue that he was fine, really, because he was never going to be alone again.

Forty years, he’s been waiting for the love of his life for forty years; the first sixteen of those years were spent in the bliss mentality of saving himself until he met his partner, then he turned seventeen and decided that experimentation wouldn’t hurt, by the time he was thirty and all of his friends were settling down, Joel threw caution to the wind and started dating random people who would leave him after a while because ‘they didn’t want to get hurt’; When his fortieth birthday veered it’s ugly head around the corner, Joel developed the mentality that the universe made a mistake  and he was destined to be alone.

Now he was destined to never be alone again and to tell the truth Joel can’t take that kind of stress, he was so happy and he wanted to disappear at the same time. It was a complicated whirlwind of emotions that made Joel an hour late for work.

Well, after Joel stopped dry heaving into the toilet he got dressed and grabbed a water to nurse while he was driving, but a motherfucking car jam made him more late for work then he was already.

It also made him more impatient. He was bouncing in his seat like a toddler when he realized, he never even looked at the fucking number. So he drummed his fingers onto his steering wheel before quickly retracting his hand to stare at his palm like a psychic who knew what they were doing.

_1151_.

The dark blue number was stained on his skin like an animal being branded for slaughter. Joel pressed the gas pedal gently and his car jolted him forward.

Joel waited forty years for this, but in comparison to the congestion of this Texas highway, those years might as well have been seconds.

 

~~~  
Joel burst through the RoosterTeeth office, making sure to wave to Kara with his left hand and quickly scuttle away when Kara shouted about how Joel should be dressed nicer than his usual work clothes. He knocked on the AH door and ripped Jack away from his work, without even offering a good morning Joel then thrusted his hand into Jack’s face, frantically waving it going ‘It happened, it happened!’

“Joel calm down.”

“It happened Jack!” He jumped into the air for effect and Jack couldn’t help but smile, but then Joel’s face quickly melted itself of all energy.

“What if they don’t like me.”  
“They’re your soul mate Joel, they’re going to  ** _love_**  you,” Jack said with a smirk. But Joel was feeling the anxiety in his stomach bubble up and strike like lightning bolts on a stormy night. Jack sighed as he grabbed Joel’s shoulder.

“It’s going to be okay, alright? You’ve waited long enough for this.”  
Joel was not convinced.

“Look, go grab yourself some coffee and some toast, I’m pretty sure Ray’s in the kitchen making coffee for himself, just take some of his.”

“Who the fuck is Ray?” Joel asked while Jack sighed.

“The new hire? Have you not met him?”  
“Great you want me to socialize and steal his coffee?”  
“Joel it’ll be okay-”  
“I’m going to meet the love of my life today Jack, and you want me to socialize?”

“Go get coffee you bitter bastard.”  

“I’m not good at being social.”  
“Bring me a cup of coffee thanks Joel.”  
“Socializing!” Joel muttered to himself as he made his way to the kitchen.


	2. Obstacle

The number, itself, means nothing. The number doesn’t brand humanity with how many of them are alive; the lowest number found recently was 52. The highest, in contrast, was a number so long it wrapped around the owner's left arm. Which must be a pain in the ass for them, considering there are many people alive with a number that large, so combing through each number to try and find a match must be a hastle.

 

They repeat. Like history all of the numbers repeat and there is a myth, that if you hold the same number someone else did, a part of them lives in you. That somehow, a person’s love for their soulmate transcended the boundaries of life and started anew. There’s a myth that each time the number gets reincarnated, the love between the two people lessens. That their love will diminish and erode away. Eventually, producing a soul mate pair that’s barely compatible.

There’s a myth. A myth that long ago there were two people who loved each other so much that their number was split in half and that they lived their next life as four people looking for one another. A soul mate looking for multiple halves. There is also talk of a more patient couple. more mature than their counterparts, their love was reminiscent of one that a friend feels for a friend, a sibling feels for their family, and a lover feels for their better half. Sprinkled together they made the perfect couple, one with a love so strong that even today their number is being passed down. They say that the people who posses the number fall in love slowly, each day it builds and builds until they feel completely at ease with each other. They don’t rush like many people do, for some reason people think that the second you see you soulmate you should get married. Just because the universe predestined you to meet doesn’t mean you shouldn’t date, or fight, or feel like you can find someone better. The second, the instant you feel that you don't want anyone else in your life, that the person you want is them, that’s when your know soul mate is true. Maybe you could do better if life was different, but God, you don’t want to know what better is when you have them.

They say this couple didn’t like each other at first, that the universe made a mistake, a miscalculation. That this couple was vicious, they looked for every fault in each other and used it against each other. But then something happened. An act of kindness was shared and they regretted spending their whole life disliking each other. So the universe took pity on them, and let them try again. But you don’t remember your past life, so they hated each other less but died with the same regret. And then again, and again, until the regret stung so deep it scarred their soul. With this scar came the notion of them wanting to make up for lost time, so they spent the next regeneration, if you want to call it that, of their life looking for the good of each other.

There’s a different ending to this story, where the universe got pissed. Super pissed off, and wanted to test the lover’s love for each other, and sent every obstacle their way. Age gaps, different cultures, living million of miles away maybe even being different species, but the lovers united and loved despite their trials.  The number lives on. And the only reason their love is still going is because their still learning to love each other.

Whoever ‘they’ is is up to you and whether or not you believe these myths and adapt them as true is up to you too.

There’s no way to prove them wrong or right.

 

~~~

Let me tell you about Ray Narvaez Jr.

 

Ray was ecstatic to have a job. His first day of work was filled with tours, meet and greets and people explaining to him how the company works. He was nervous, yeah sure, but he didn’t let his nerves override his bubbling happiness.

 

He met almost everyone in the company that day, his mind was buzzing with names and new information. He’s bad at retaining it though and has to ask the same people over and over again what their name it.

No one minds. Not at all.

Very soon, his nervousness melts and he’s cracking jokes, stupid ones but people laugh anyway.

It seems, that the longer Ray stays at the company, the more new faces he sees. He meets three more people on his second day of work, five on his third, and apparently the rest of the company on his fourth day. And all of this is new and overwhelming for Ray, because all he can think about is if he forgets someone’s name and it’s awkward. Or if he has to talk to someone about something and they all know him but he doesn’t know their name, or heaven forbid he calls someone by the wrong name.

Ray manages. I mean he just started working there, what’s the worst that can happen?

But Ray knows he hasn’t met one person in the company yet, a voice actor who got caught in business meetings during lunch and locked himself in his office like a teenager would in their room.

They dance around each other, Ray being at the wrong place at the wrong time and Joel doing the same. They don’t meet. They’re like two hands on the clock, ones counting the seconds zoom past and the other’s barely moving. They never stop to chat or introduce each other, because time’s moving on and so are they.

 

~~~

 

Ray stares at his palm like a blind man seeing himself for the first time, investigating every inch of his skin in a child like wonder. Ray gingerly passes a finger over every digit etched into his skin and scrubs, trying to find out if it’s truly time or if it’s just ink and someone was pulling a sick joke on him.

He takes soap and rubs, halfheartedly until he feels lighter somehow; the number isn’t rubbing off and this can only mean one thing.

Ray feels electricity coursing through his veins and can’t stop the smile that graces his features. His toes feel cold as he feels the spark inch north, making his stomach bubble with nerves as if a million butterflies have hatched inside of him. The spark constricts his heart as he feels a slight blush of child like embarrassment on his cheeks.

The sun is shining, he has work today, and life couldn’t be getting any better.

Work.

Right.

Ray bursts through his apartment door and makes his way to the roosterteeth building. It’s early, and Ray has a streak of being at work on time every time, the second the clock’s hand ticks to 9 AM he opens the door like clock work.

But today he’s early and Kara wonders if she needs to set the clocks forward a few minutes.

He’s shaking, the electricity hasn’t subsided and his nerves feel fried. He wonders how he’ll meet them, at a restaurant or maybe even walking home, or maybe if he orders pizza later for lunch and has it delivered it’ll be the pizza delivery person and it’ll be something out of a porn Ray doesn’t watch.

 

He’s tongue tied when Jack says good morning to him. Nothing works in Ray’s mouth and his reply comes out as a jumbled mess of syllables and noises that only animals make to communicate to one another.

Jack’s concerned, wondering if the kid’s on drugs or something, but all Ray can do to show him what’s wrong is show Jack the number tattooed on his arm. Jack’s eyes widen in concern for a minute, not know what exactly he should be looking for, but then he laughs.

“Everything’s going to be okay Ray. Jesus you scared me.” Ray offered a weak sorry in response. “Did you eat? Well, go make some coffee at least. It’s exciting Ray, not nerve wracking.”

Ray’s good at doing what he’s told so he slinks away into the kitchen. Making coffee should have been synonymous with rocket science, because taking out one coffee filter took longer than usual with Ray’s shaky hands. He manages, and fills the maker with water. Then he’s torn between what coffee to use. French vanilla or some fancy shit that looks like someone brought from home. What if he picks the wrong one and everyone at the office hates it. What if the coffee’s expired. Can coffee expire?

 

“Use the vanilla one, the other one is Adam’s and he’s really possessive of his coffee,” A voice startled Ray into dropping both bags on the floor, they, thankfully, didn’t open upon impact.

“Ray right?” Joel asked while he reached down to pick up both bags of coffee.

“Yeah. You’re the voice of donut right?”

“Caboose.”  
“Same thing.” Ray grabbed the bag of coffee from Joel’s hand and poured some into the machine, he rested his hand on the counter and outstretched his other one. “Nice to meet you-” He paused waiting for Joel to finish his sentence with his name.

“‘M Joel.”

The sound of coffee bubbling and gurgling filled the voice of silence, the air felt thin as neither of them knew what to say.

“Like working here? How long have you been here?”  
“A, a few weeks. And I fucking love it. Wouldn’t trade it for the world,” Ray’s voice seemed distant, a million things running through his mind.

“You’re from New York right?”  
“Y-yeah, I’ve uh, lived there my whole life. Didn’t have a job though, so,” Ray shrugged.

“Didja get culture shock yet?”  
“Ohhh Yeah, but I don’t leave me house much anyway so it’s not like the heat is gonna bother me and I walk everywhere anyway and everything I need is just a few blocks away so.”  
“You don’t drive? What if someone wanted to take you to a bar or something.”  
“Never needed to drive man I mean it’s New York, there’s trains and subways and taxis. I also don’t drink.”  
“How old are you?”  
“Twenty-three.”

“Dork.” Joel said as he looked impatiently at the coffee mug.

“Whoa already with the name calling? Come on man.” Ray’s voice was wavering and Joel wonders if he struck a sour chord.

“What are you nervous about? Am I intimidating?” Joel asked, his mouth going dry for a second, thinking that maybe he was doing a bad job of trying to mask his soul mate induced nerves with friendliness.  

“I’m meeting my soul mate today, so I’m kinda, out of it.” Ray stared at the coffee mug, watching the liquid pour down and fill the air with a nice vanilla scent.

“So am I, actually. But I’m super calm.” Joel’s voice emphasised the word super.

“Yeah? Well you seem super jittery to me.”  
“No I don’t,” Joel said defiantly, “You're the jittery one.”

Ray laughed with a chuckled that seemed to spawn from the depths of his chest.

The coffee maker was void of make any noise, so Ray pulled out the container and filled his cup, he then filled Joel’s cup and added sugar to his drink.

“What’s your number?” Joel asked, “I mean the number on your wrist. Or you know you can give me your phone number too. We work together.”

Ray realized he looked at his palm but didn’t memorize the number, Joel took a sip of his coffee.

“Uh,” Ray shuffled around and looked at the blue number stained onto his skin, “1151.”

Joel choked. Ray put down his cup of coffee and made weird hand motions with his hands, “You okay Joel?”  
“We’re, we’re,” Joel choked out, his soulmate was so fucking young.

“Oh my god,” Ray was completely still for a moment, “Oh my god we’re colleges at work?”

“No! Yes but Ray I’m your soul mate I’m so sorry.”

Ray laughed and looked at Joel’s hand for confirmation.

Yep. They’re soul mates.

Ray kept laughing. All the butterflies that hatched in his stomach seemed to escape from his mouth and fly into the air.

“Oh my god, and we kept talking to each other completely oblivious.” Joel smiled because of Ray’s infectious laugh.

“You wanna skip work?”

“I literally just started working here, do you think I should be taking time off.”

“I’m telling Jack.”  
“Joel no we have the rest of our lives to get to know each other.”

“I’m telling Jack.” Joel said, suddenly worried about his age for some reason. So he walked out, leaving Ray there alone with his cuppa coffee.

 

“Jack I’m so old!” Joel protested, as he used one of his hands to thread through his hair.

“Did you get me my coffee Joel?”  
“Ray’s,” Joel didn’t know what to say, for god’s sakes he was like twenty years older than the kid man, he was going to college when Ray was  _born_.

“Is he hurt?” Jack asked, quirking up an eyebrow.

“Worse he’s my soul mate.”

Jack’s face lit up like a busy town square on christmas eve, the lights joyfully dancing around people as their breaths became visible in the harsh air.

“That’s great!”

“I’m  _ooooollllld_ ,” Joel stretched, “So old.”

“You’re soul mates Joel.”

“What if, oh my god, There’s been a mistake. There’s been a mistake Jack. I’m so old oh my god when he’s sixty I’m going to be eighty. Picture that?”

“Joel-”  
“I’m going to die first.”  
“Stop thinking about the goddamn future man. He’s your  _soul mate_.”

“But-”  
“Go take a drive or something with him, if you’re really concerned about your age, a car ride with you will make the stress age Ray too.”

“Jaaaaack.”

“Bathe in the blood of young virgin sacrifices? That'll make you young? Joel I don’t know what to tell you except everything’s going to be fine. The fucking  _universe_  paired you guys together. Just go, date each other, find out what makes you both click. It’ll be okay. Everything’s going to be fine. The stars aligned and you and Ray were meant to be. What are you going to do? Not be with your soul mate?” That, of course, was unheard of. So Jack pulled Joel in close for a bone crushing hug, Joel didn’t return it though, because  _ew_  Jack was  _touching_   _him_.

But he did feel better.  
“I’m going to kidnap Ray bye Jack.”

 

And he did, fucking bastard basically kidnaped Ray, driving 100 miles per hour in his fancy-ish car, laughing at Ray and with him.

While they were looking out at the world around them, Ray wondered if it would bother Joel that Ray didn’t drink, or drive.

Or the fact that he’s never gotten laid.

He wondered why he kept seeing all these faults with him and he wondered if other soul mates felt the same thing.

(But Joel never found a fault in Ray, not a single one and he sincerely hoped Ray never found a fault in him too.)

 


	3. One

 

There’s a tale called One.

Where, long ago, there were two warring kingdoms. One was ruled by a woman who wanted nothing more than peace and another who wanted nothing short of it all. The two Queens watched their population of both kingdoms diminish as warfare continued. The Queen who wanted it all didn’t stop and pushed her soldiers harder and harder, trying to capture as much land that wasn’t hers and claim it. It’s not like she needed it.

The other Queen grew tired.

So very tired.

She called a meeting, to tell the other Queen she’d given up and wanted to surrender her kingdom on the premise that the Queen would be kind to her citizens.

Queen Amalia agreed, pleased that her tactics worked. She knew that Queen Fiona was a pushover, she ruled with love and not with power or ambition. The superior Queen was obvious.

Queen Fiona dolled up her throne room, giving praise to slaves who did their job right and a slap on the wrist to ones who seemed to be lazy, the castle’s atmosphere was similar to one when the clouds are over head and the earth doesn’t know if it should let it rain.

This would be the farewell of their Queen.

Amalia burst through the throne room with two soldiers escorting her and a golden sword at her side. A grin on her face told all when Fiona bowed down.

But she caught sight of the other’s wrist, a number sprawled in silver tattooed her otherwise pure skin.

Fiona touched it.

They were a match.

Shocked, Fiona had no idea what to do, but Amalia had a plan.

“Seems like it was meant to be,” she said, but neither of them had no idea what the universe was planning.

Amalia ruled with an iron fist, everything was strict and without fun. She trained children at young ages and taught them how to kill, she ordered things to be made for her and never paid anyone for their services, festivals were cancelled and all the color that seemed to be in the air vanished. Fiona hated it. She hated every second of it. She hated seeing her kingdom lose it’s spirits and she hated seeing soldiers train, she hated everything that’s been changed every since she found her match. But what she hated most was how kind Amalia was kind to her behind the scenes, how they really did match.

Without the kingdom tied to them, Fiona and Amalia could have been perfect together.

Fiona loved her kingdom more.

And took Amalia’s golden sword, and stabbed her while she was sleeping.

Amalia’s last words to her wife, is rumored to be, “I rubbed off on you.”

And Fiona ruled with love once more. But the universe didn’t know where her soul mate went, though, and branded her wrist with the number one.

The loneliest number.

((Royalty, for centuries afterward, was afraid to find their match in case someone’s ambition was greater than their capability for love.))

~~~

 

Ray had never dated anyone. He can honestly say he never got around, and he kinda prided himself on the fact that he saved himself for his soulmate.

But he wondered if Joel did the same. A 40 year old virgin? I mean it’s kinda cute, but improbable.

And he didn’t want to ask, because that would feel weird to him.

 

So Ray was stuck in this looping void of ‘I know communication is important in a relationship I’ve read the magazines’ and ‘haha feelings are for nerds.’

He never said anything.

 

Joel has weird date ideas. And tonight, Joel has a bottle of Jack Daniels and he’s looking up at the night sky, his back resting on the windshield of his car while Ray’s right next to him.

“Do you think the stars have numbers too?” He says, almost completely gone from the Jack Daniels and the fact that it’s one in the morning. Ray takes the bottle away from Joel and he offers no resistance.

“What do you mean numbers Joel?”  
“Do you think every couple has a star? Like a little burning ball of gas billions of light years away that’s probably already dead, just for them?”

“Like something to make a wish on?”  
“Like something to look at when they’re miles and miles away, so they can think about their soul mate and feel a little closer to them.” Joel’s eyes are half lidded and Ray feels like he’s at a sleepover with the philosophical friend.

“Probably not. Do you want to make that a thing?” Ray looked up at the sky and pointed, “I want that one.”

“Which one.”

“It’s right in the middle of Orion’s belt. The bigger one.”

“Okay. That's ours.”

“Okay.”

“Okay,” Joel echoed.

 

Ray feels like he dozed off, but Joel is still wide awake right next to him, Ray feels a jacket he wasn’t wearing before slide down his body a little and he reaches to catch it.

“Are you okay with us?” Joel has the Jack Daniels in his hand again and Ray takes it out of his hand. He then takes a swig and grimaces at the taste, he smacks his lips loudly while Joel let’s out a hoarse laugh.

“I’m better than okay, I love us.”

“If this soul mate thing wasn't a thing, would you still date me?”

“If you made a move, yeah.”  
“So I’d have to make the first move.”

“I guess. Yeah. Why, would you not want to date me?”

“I’d date you.”  _Even though all I ever do with my life is waste it play video games and I have the social skills of a rat,_ Ray thought to himself.

“You don’t care I’m old?” Joel asked, his voice getting soft as his mouth opened in a yawn.

“No, do you care that I’m,” What’s the word for it? A dork? “That I’m, well  _me_?”

“No, you’re my favorite part of you, I like. I like all of you.”

The Jack Daniels slid off the hood of the car and splashed on the floor.

No one was bothered by it.


End file.
